


blessed are those who seen and are silent

by strze_lec



Category: The Resident (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22760383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strze_lec/pseuds/strze_lec
Summary: He found her in an empty supply closet.This was not the place he would normally look for Mina, but today… Today nothing was normal, as the events of the past twelve hours had shown. Shutdown of a whole hospital, three innocent people dead, another six traumatized and would require further counselor help. One man, mad, armed and wearing explosive materials.
Relationships: AJ Austin/Mina Okafor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	blessed are those who seen and are silent

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first go with these two, though I've been thinking about them for a long time now. I love slow burns, but waiting for them to get together is taking ages! UGH. I'm not entirely happy with where the series is going, yet I hope they'll finally find each other in the right time and right space of mind.  
> To warn you now, this is not a story where they finally have their happy ever after. But I think, they come closer emotionally and that's an achievement in itself. 
> 
> Someday, I tell myself, someday.
> 
> Before I'll let you go, I'd like to thank my beta, who went above and beyond to correct all my mistakes (and since I'm not a native, there were some *laugh*). I hope she won't get bored of me asking for help.
> 
> I do not owe the characters nor the series, of course.

He found her in an empty supply closet.

This was not the place he would normally look for Mina, but today… Today nothing was normal, as the events of the past twelve hours had shown. Shutdown of a whole hospital, three innocent people dead, another six traumatized and would require further counselor help. One man, mad, armed and wearing explosive materials.

As soon as he has left the OR – where he was bringing back to life one of the patients from that horrible room, a survivor only because the mediator managed to negotiate his release soon enough – he heard pale-faced people sigh, “At least it’s over now. This bastard taken down.” Patients, nurses, doctors. Two floors of people who could’ve been blown up by a psycho hidden in a barricaded space.

His attention though, was focused on one woman he couldn’t bear the thought to lose.

Austin stopped in his tracks, finding her leaning on an old desk, probably stuffed there because of a lack of a better place. She looked like she hasn’t even noticed his presence, her gaze fixed on her shoes, her hands grasping the edge of the wooden surface, part of her behind sat on it, but she was standing rather than fully sitting, her legs outstretched in front of her. What bothered him the most was the lack of expression on her face, an ice-cold mask.

_Was it over, really?_

Slowly, not wanting to scare her off, he moved in her direction, wary of any reactions he might receive. After all, it was Mina. He expected anger, irritation, annoyance for his unasked search of her, expected nonchalance for what happened, expected harsh words about minding his own business. He was prepared. After Nic called the OR saying Mina and the rest of the hostages were in one piece – Nic knew, he might have sort of a relationship with Andrea now, but Nic _knew_ – the remaining hour of an operation gave him plenty of time to get ready to deal with whatever displeased outburst she had in her arsenal.

He was aware she wouldn’t feel well after a situation of this kind, but he wasn’t sure _she was aware._ And whereas Mina might have made it clear they’re only friends, _that_ is one of the things friends do. Not letting the other one fall into denial after suffering a nightmare.

Who’s nightmare it was, was an open question.

The moment he had been told _she_ was the doctor locked in a room with a psychopath, he felt his heart stop beating for a painful second, unbelievably long period of time. He would never quit blaming himself for telling her to go to the ER, the heat of an argument making him send her down, straight into what turned out to be probably the worst day of her life. He couldn’t have known, but it didn’t matter. It was his temper that got her there.

It wasn’t long after fury and disgrace mixed with each other when they heard the first shot. Then second, right after the first. Whole story froze. That’s when fear joined the lump in his throat for real. He hadn’t prayed for a long time, but he prayed then. Prayed Mina’s temper had been better than his today, that she managed to keep her mouth shut and her stare non-threatening. Because his Mina was a warrior, a fighter, her instinct to protect and people under her care had been thrown right into the flames.

It took the mediator an hour to get the bodies out. Austin let out the guiltiest breath of his life. _Not her._

Nevertheless, his features remained taut and cloudy, nothing – aside from having Mina safe and sound in front of him – able to give him rest.

Next part was foggy and stretched over an eternity, though in reality it was just few hours. All his friends – all Mina’s friends as well – sat together, only sometimes leaving to check on some patients. The hospital was on a lockdown, most of the operations cancelled, but they still had others in need, people who needed their attention in order to heal. Nobody paged him during that time, astray thought circled in his mind that either pre-surgery and recovery patients were stable enough to wait or somebody assessed him as too unstable to perform. This one time, he truly didn’t give a fuck, his gut churning with sensation of a whole different kind. The silence that hung in the air…

That was until the third shot was fired and he couldn’t pinpoint what hurt him more – stomach, head or heart? Anyway, they did an excellent job together, making him sick with worry. _Please, no._

What happened next was a flash in comparison to the previous torturous hours. Somebody yelled about one dead and one injured, one bullet wounding them both. The mediator started another negotiation. Someone shout to prep the OR. People started rushing toward and from different directions.

Last thing Austin saw before he was tugged by Bell to scrub in beside him, was a team of antiterrorists getting into _that corridor_ with stretchers. He didn’t know if the move of the older doctor was calculated to get him to focus on something, _anything_ else than danger to Mina’s life or he was brought simply because the two of them were the best physicians in the hospital. One thing he knew though. Mina was neither the person laying limply on the hospital floor in a pool of blood, neither was she the one being pushed into the surgery with a pulse dropping lower and lower.

Hope flickered in his beaten and broken heart.

That helped him keep his head up as he crossed the door to the operating room and _worked_. Worked hard and with painstaking reluctance to not let death win this poor soul as she claimed the others. Worked without a tiniest break, without a shadow of a doubt for this man’s survival, because that was what Mina would expect from him.

So he lived up to the expectations she would have.

Now was the time to confirm or reject his.

“Mina?” he asked, his intention was to say it softly, but what came from his mouth was only a whisper. All of sudden his throat felt like he had been screaming for hours, despite the fact he had barely said any words for most of the day.

Okafor usually had her senses as sharp as an eagle, but now she seemed to not hear him at all.

“Mina?” he tried again, with more confidence.

Nothing, not even a change of breathing.

He took three steps, coming to halt in front of the point of her fixation. She flinched and her lips parted, gaze rising along the lines of his body. She looked… wrong. Nothing in particular aimed toward the conclusion, yet he had known her long enough to pick up the vibe. She wasn’t alright, even though that would be what she would try to bullshit him with. When their eyes met, he gave her a chance anyway.

“Mina, are you okay?” his low voice resonated in the quiet space.

He didn’t know what she heard in that question that went unnoticed by his ears, but a shiver ran through her tensed frame and she glanced down instantly, the fragility of the movement taking his heart in a tight grip. “Mina?” easing from his lips just like first one, this time on purpose as his fingers brought her chin up.

Shame coloring her features, she closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, bottom lip quivering. “No”, Mina whispered back in response to his previous inquiry. The pain she must have felt behind those sealed walls of her soul slipping through into her tone. “I’d watched him kill those people and I didn’t do a thing.”

“You did everything you could in an unfair and surreal situation you’ve–”

She glanced sideway, her jaw losing contact with his digits. Her lip trembled more. “No.”

“Mina, it wasn’t your place–”

Mina bit on the evidence of her shaken up state and he had to consciously forbid himself from smoothing his thumb over that damn lip, the need of sparing her as much hurt as possible being a vivid flame in his veins. The shine her eyes gained during this short moment didn’t help his discipline either.

“It’s my fault.” Her voice cracked a bit on the last word.

Austin’s eyebrows drew together, “How could it _possibly_ be your fault?”

A tiniest of whimpers. “I said something to him – I don’t even remember _what_ , but it was _so stupid and unnecessary,_ ” she bit on the lip again, stifling the sound that tried to get out of her throat and her shoulders shook for a second. “– then he just turned around and shot two people right in the head…”

He stopped mid-breath. He had seen the bodies, but had no clue there was some chain reaction behind. A tear ran down Mina’s cheek, her profile giving him a clear view and somehow, he suspected what her next statement would look like.

Yet, he wasn’t ready for it when an otherwise silent room was filled with her plaintive tone.

“Told me it’s a warning. Shut up, don’t move or there will be another,” raw pause. “I still have their faces in front of my eyes.”

His heart broke again, this time in all new places.

Austin acted before he could gain control over his doings.

His legs moved and spread, locating him above her outstretched limbs and his arms came around her shoulders, bringing Mina flush with his chest, her ear at the level of his heart. For a split second he thought she was going to push him back, but her whitening knuckles released the edge of the desk an instant later and grabbed a handful of his scrubs T-shirt behind his back.

“They didn’t even scream, didn’t have time for it. One moment they were whispering something to one another, the next their brains were on the wall,” despite the sound being muffled and her murmur quiet, he heard her well. “Second shot wasn’t clear like the first. Guy had twisted head to his friend’s side, the bullet didn’t go right through the brain stem. He bled out, had a seizure before dropped down.”

Nails dug into the flesh under the material. Her jaw set tightly as one, two trembles took command over her body and she tried to hold on, the tremors ceasing down brutally. More pressure on his back, little curves of her nails leaving stinging sensation, tiny moons probably marking his back. He didn’t care.

“For what it’s worth, I might’ve killed them myself,” an aching cry. “Like Ngozi and Kadara.”

This time shiver wrecked her body and found no resistance, her willpower not enough against the violent force of a dam that broke inside. His hand slid to her nape, thumb caressing soft skin there reassuringly and he bent his chin to the top of her head, his face resting in her hair. Sobs echoed in the air as salted droplets covered his shirt and August tightened his hold.

He stood motionless, feeling like a damn vase with stupid fruits in those fucking still life paintings his mother hated and he too, hated everything about the picture they were in.

 _Hated_ the maniac who took lives of innocents and scarred minds of others, who made his strong and resolute Mina blame herself for deaths she couldn’t stop, who died a quick and painless death he didn’t deserve. Need for vengeance boiled underneath Austin’s skin, left him with a sensation equally hot to the tears Mina shed. There was no mercy in violent images rocking through his mind, only beaten black and blue flesh.

Though when Mina’s nails retreated from his back and she reluctantly flattened her palms at the level of his kidneys, her touch unsure, fragile, his thoughts lost their cutting outline. Her cries hushed and her body went limp in his arms, which caused him more distress than her previously shuddering state. He _hated_ seeing her vulnerable _like that_ , traumatized and crushed under not her guilt.

Doctors lose patients, but not without a fight and Mina was fierce, was tough. She never let anyone go without a battle. But what happened to her today didn’t fit in any usual terms, shouldn’t have ever happened. He knew how the imprints of watching people die stained souls, could guess how agonizing it had to be a witness and could do nothing. To stifle the most basic instinct to help, to save. He was built like that as well, steel spine and protective core.

It wasn’t her fault, none of that was hers, but she would blame herself nevertheless. And as much as she never truly forgave herself for what happened to her sisters, she would carry the scars of today for the rest of her life. He too would, shoulder the awareness that if not for his reckless behavior, she might have not gained these marks at all.

He _hated_ hurting her.

And _hated_ the spinning wheel his thoughts had formed, the chaos of mixed words and emotions. It was on very rare occasions when he couldn’t find a vocalization for his musings, couldn’t even decipher what he wanted to say and _for fuck’s sake_ , it wasn’t his life that has been threatened. Yet, the more he tried to sooth her anguish out loud, the more he was finding himself at a loss for words. What type of empty syllables could be sufficient for the stress she endured?

So, driven by the same impulse that brought him to her in the first place, he decided to settle her with caresses instead. Keeping his hand on her nape where it was, August started running his other palm up and down her back, applying gentle pressure to massage stiff muscles. Being completely honest with himself, he would rather kiss her until she’d stop crying, then wipe away any remains of tears with feather-like kisses across her cheeks. Cuddle her all night, make sure she wasn’t left alone with dark memories clouding her mind. Except, he didn’t have a right to any of these selfish fantasies. Besides, given his actual relationship status, he shouldn’t even have them in the beginning. That _was_ a problem.

 _Later,_ his heart whispered, _she needs you now._

Few minutes later, Mina aligned her head to the other side, taking shuddered, but deep breath and he literally felt the change in the tension between her shoulders. _No._ He wasn’t about to let her retreat into the shell she created herself years before in order to cope with the world’s unfairness. The trust she gave him in that forgotten by the time supply closet was not going to be discarded, because it was a _gift_ and gifts were supposed to be treasured.

“Don’t even think about it,” he chided her gently, drawing lines across her back and not moving an inch.

“About what?” she asked, her voice hoarse after what seemed like hours of crying. She didn’t take her palms from his body yet, then maybe he still had a chance to talk to her before she would rise her walls up again.

Austin was quiet for a moment, carefully choosing words as he did his best to create an image of a cat on her back. “About waving this aside on the outside and mourning in isolation. You’re not alone, Mina.”

“I don’t–” she started, already separating from his embrace and her tone dark.

Turned out, he wasn’t nowhere near as tempered as he wanted to believe. “It is _not_ your fault. You didn’t put explosive vest on you, you didn’t take ill people hostage, didn’t threaten to blow up two floors of a damn hospital and _didn’t pull the trigger._ Crimes of that _bastard_ remain his and _his alone._ You cannot beat yourself up over that,” he almost growled.

By the time he was done, she managed to pull away enough to catch his gaze. Austin’s expression matched his words in its grimness, though that wasn’t what made her startled. It was the intensity and depth of his statement that perplexed her. “Why are you so mad?” the volume of her question low.

He opened his mouth to retort, but had to close them soon, as he didn’t have an immediate answer to her inquiry. He knew he was angry, the burning not gone but dimmed, yet it didn’t explain the forcefulness and lack of control. Then it dawned on him.

“I might feel responsible for you being there in the first place,” he admitted, more calmly now. “Actually, I do feel responsible. And therefore, responsible for burdening you with those sick images of those people being killed.”

“You couldn’t have known.” She withdrew her palms from his back.

“If I couldn’t have known, then what I said stands. _It is not your fault._ ”

Mina shook her head, her eyes lowering to his chest, the vast expanse of his body blocking most of her vision. “It’s not the same, if–“

He interjected her again. “No, Mina,” the hand that had stopped on her shoulder when she parted from him, moved to the side of her neck, his thumb on her jaw. “That’s the same logic. If we’re going to play with the butterfly effect, we play it together.”

She wanted to argue, but he reached with his index finger to silence her. “I’m not saying your feeling of responsibility is irrelevant, just undeserved. Remember that if you find yourself slipping into a self-blaming circle.”

Mina’s eyelashes dropped, would probably leave thin shadows on her cheeks if the lightning was different and his attention shifted to the barely noticeable wetness covering her skin. Wiping it with his digits was a breach of unsaid boundaries between them, he knew, yet resisting the urge… He didn’t have that inner strength today.

~~*~~

Neither did Mina.

That’s why her hand didn’t close on his wrist and she didn’t tell him to stop. Frankly, if she actually dared to touch his forearm, her fingers might curl around and keep his palm in place.

Tenderness. He treated her with such tenderness. She was usually a stranger, if not an enemy to the foreign sensation, didn’t like the implication it carried. She wasn’t some fragile, spineless princess who needed to be saved nor a broken collection of pieces to be put together. Therefore, she had a rather loathing feeling concerning tenderness, though now confusion accompanied the reaction – the pull to get rid of that vulnerability wasn’t strong.

“I think I let out the guiltiest breath of my life when I saw it wasn’t you,” he confessed, his digits slipping from her skin. However, he didn’t move from the awkward position they were in.

Maybe he didn’t see it as awkward, as he apparently didn’t consider his statement as too revealing.

“That’s hardly coherent with what you’ve said,” Mina responded, trying to push the hard edge back to her tone. She raised her head to meet his gaze. His expression was so open she almost regretted the motion.

“It is ‘cause I accept that whereas it’ll haunt me for a while, I’m just a human and shit happens, you know. Life’s build on factors we can’t control, strings we can’t play,” he paused. “More is alive than dead and it’s a blessing in itself that we’re still breathing. I decide to cherish that.”

Comment left her mouth before she had a chance to register the words. “You’ve just switched from worried to angry to calm to thoughtful in a spawn of two minutes. It’s insane to take your decisions seriously.”

And just like that, without conscious effort, the fog of sorrow – previously thick and heavy in the air – started to disappear as Austin’s wholehearted chuckle took up the space. “That’s _the queen_ I know. Wait, were you just pretending to be sad to get a free hug?” he followed the uplifting path her retort created.

She shot him a warning glance.

He blinked slowly, small smile stretching his lips. “Alright, _alright_ , this one’s on me,” Austin announced and embraced her, his arms wrapping themselves behind her shoulders.

This time the manner didn’t hold that desperate undertone, wasn’t committed in an effort to bring her whole. Yet, as the mussing crossed her mind, she was somehow aware it held a fundamental flaw – given the fierce determination he sought to make her understand she didn’t carry the fault for those killed, he would never consider her destroyed. So she accepted friendly behavior in return, put her own hands around his torso, experienced his touch once more.

Firm, but tender.

_That tenderness again._

She had a sense it was more for him than for her, especially as her nature wasn’t so tactile, but she agreed to let him have this one. Though it didn’t change the fact that it went against everything she had decided, against everything she considered rational and appropriate. Perhaps she shouldn’t have him comforting her or maybe, she should have lied at the beginning and say she was okay. Even if she wasn’t. Would he know anyway?

She didn’t have to convince herself. He always knew, it was like he had a sixth sense when it came to finding her in trouble. Mina could fool everyone around, but it took one glance – this long, concentrated look like he has been seeing right through her – and sooner or later she would find herself being hauled somewhere private to explain her struggle. Also, more often than not she was scowling at him that she didn’t ask for his help, but ended up spilling out the problem nonetheless. To even the score, she was doing the same to – for – him whenever he was the one needing unwanted advice. Or teasing. Or very ugly challenge thrown his way that would make them both break a sweat to ace.

This was how their relationship worked and it was enough.

_Was it?_

Mina pushed the lingering question to the side, the perplexing inquiry coming to the front of her mind on a regular basis lately and messing with her judgement. It wasn’t a fair fight when her defenses were low, her vessels overloaded with the remains of adrenaline, her muscles aching with tension and the smell of pungent nitroglycerin still heavy in her nostrils.

 _No_ , she realized, _no more._

Now her nose was filled with a scent of an antiseptic – so characteristic for surgeons, laundry detergent faint yet noticeable and simple male scent, something purely August. She recognized the mix from the other time when she cried in his arms. Kind of embarrassing, but not humiliating. Never humiliating.

That was the thing with Austin, he never made her feel bad about who she was, never tried to turn her independence, intelligence or strength against her or insult them like many other men did. He seemed to praise her on these features, expecting nothing less than a complicated complexity that made her Mina.

In the rare moments of downhill – neither did he try to take an advantage of her, nor did he play her vulnerabilities to gain an upper hand during later occasions. If hard truths needed to be spoken, he was doing so, yet he wasn’t taking any pleasure in the act. But if she needed a steady shoulder to lean on, he would provide it without a hesitation, as he had shown today. It wouldn’t change the respect he had for her an ounce, her secrets safe with him.

She… She felt safe with him, too. And that was overwhelming in itself, because she learned very early on that the only person she should be finding safety with, was her own self. People were always eventually letting her down, no matter if that were friends, lovers or family. In the end – she had to manage on her own anyway, so these days – or so she thought – she wasn’t keeping people that close anymore. Last time she did, she finished the ride with a part of her heart broken nonetheless.

_Why does anyone bother?_

She wanted to not bother either, yet it was so _hard._ Truth be told, it wasn’t a fair fight even when she was at her full logical capacity. Things aligned too smoothly for them and yes, constant fighting about everything and nothing were a part of _smoothly_ in her mind. Mina didn’t consider herself short-tempered, but with Austin in her vicinity, situations tended to escalate very quickly. _Fire meet gasoline_ , she heard the muttered comment under Devon’s breath once. That was true, yet either way, they always found a way to get the matter settled and nobody held a grudge after.

Instead – the simple aspect carried a sense of security too. Boundaries weren’t an agenda she had mastered, her own too high and too solid to breach most of the time, therefore awareness she was not going to unconsciously devastate his gave a freedom to explore the relationship as it was. She could question myriad things – his skills and judgement included – and still be sure he would only get mad, any essential cross not made. In the same easy way she knew to be careful and double think her words while speaking about his family, adoptive or biological no difference. She had no intention to rip open old scars, both topics hitting too close to home.

It was ridiculous. He had a reputation of an unwilling, scary, argumentative man who shone with wit and skill, though simultaneously he wore a heart on his sleeve, smiles and generosity in his repertoire on a daily basis. He didn’t lose them toward her even when she had flat out friendzoned him. August was still that joking, irritably clever himself, treating her as his equal and friend. Just how she wanted, right?

_Right._

The sound of his laugh accompanying Andrea’s, the sight of his arm casually draped over her shoulders, the sensory knowledge of how big and warm his hands must have felt on the other woman’s skin – it definitely didn’t trouble Mina. Neither did the heavy whisper in the back of her mind accusing her of a terrible mistake.

That… _thing_ between her and Austin was too _good_ to last, their working situation wasn’t helping either and it was too late anyway. No reason to delve now.

She didn’t even know she had closed her eyes until he shifted to move and she had to open them up. The embrace might have been going on for forty seconds max, yet in the same instance she brought herself far enough to look at him again – no shame this time, _he got her_ – she realized how much more calm she felt, that strange sense of cold death’s breath on her back gone.

She wasn’t afraid to die, not _per se._ She feared dying while knowing she hadn’t done enough, hadn’t accomplished her dreams, hadn’t reached her limits.

“Hey, your crown got crooked,” he murmured, his hands no longer on her body.

She snorted. “I’ll have it fixed by tomorrow.” Chocolate brown irises met chocolate brown.

“Never doubted that,” a lopsided curve to his lips.

And she knew he didn’t.

In an one swift motion, he swung his left leg above her limbs and stepped to her side. “Seriously though, will you be okay?” sincere concern painted on his face.

“Yeah,” she nodded additionally, breaking their connected stares for a moment. Her palms grabbed the edge of a table she halfway sat on again, this time though, simply because it felt more comfortable than having them awkwardly in her lap. Small smile found its way to her mouth.

“Are you taking the leave the hospital has proposed to you?” he inquired, his tone holding a bit of a warning. He didn’t see her getting one, but it was obvious the management wasn’t going to make her work for a couple of days. Whereas the offer might not have come from an ethic code of their employers, they had to maintain the good image of the hospital. And she would better be taking it, despite the logic behind it.

She narrowed her eyes slightly at his attitude.

Some time ago, Mina would categorically say _no_ and argue with people who suggested leave, dared them to question her competence. Now she didn’t have a need to prove her ability to perform to anyone. She was aware she could get back to work the next day, but as she was sitting in that barricaded room, barrel directed toward her over and over again and a consuming comprehension of powerlessness thick in her throat, she came to peace with a few things.

One of them was the fact that she was very much mortal, a tiny aspect of her existence she deliberately ignored on a day–to–day basis. It might have not fully dawned on her if she could have fought the attacker, yet in those circumstances she couldn’t. Not when he was wearing a vest with explosives.

She didn’t want to believe in sheer luck either, but the shot that took down the terrorist almost missed the right spot ensuring instant death. If it would miss indeed, she wouldn’t be here nor two floors of the hospital, because the psycho would have had enough time to set off the detonator.

_But he didn’t._

Other knowledge understood in the bloodied space was that she didn’t feel ready to meet the endless nothingness she considered afterlife from the reasons different than her career. Sure, she loved her job, but there were nonrelated aspects of her life she still wanted to explore, to treasure. She wished to see Michelle growing up, to dance at Conrad’s and Nic’s wedding (and laugh at the cold feet Nic was going to get beforehand), to play stupid board games with her friends on the sacred nights when they all have been off shift, to wander through the Sierra Nevada mountains in California as she had promised herself to do after finishing her residency. Somewhere along these goals and dreams, were also those about the very person who was watching her right now with his characteristic focused gaze.

She knew her answer, though… “What if I don’t?”

Not a sound yet, although he looked like he wanted to hiss at her. “Then you’re not entering my OR.”

Mina shrugged. “There’s plenty enough of other attendings to work with.”

His eyes narrowed like moments before hers. “In fact, I’ll be able to have you banned from the surgical wing altogether.”

“ER then. They never have too many hands on board.”

“ _Mina,_ ” was that a growl? She could bet it was.

She turned her head to the side, smug grin on her lips. She knew when she was winning and she definitely liked to win. She was also aware that expression could get her out of his bad book easily enough. “I’m going to take leave. Spend some time with Adaku and Michelle. Catch up on household duties I had an excuse to avoid. Maybe finish your birthday present earlier.” That face and getting him curious, these were the methods.

As she expected, his eyes sparkled and – when did it go tense? – his body relaxed. “What is my birthday present?”

“Like I’m going to tell you.”

“If you won’t tell me, you won’t get a dinner,” his arms crossed on his chest and the movement brought her eyes to his biceps for a guilty second.

“Was I getting any?”

“Now you’re not.”

Regardless of their mocked argument, she had enough sense left to ask, “Don’t you have places to be?”

Because people in relationships had places to be at roughly ten in the evening. Especially after stressful days, they were supposed to be at their homes, with their partners, making sure the weight of whatever they carried can be shared by two and got rid of together. She wasn’t going to be a dog in the manger and keep him busy whereas she had no right to claim his time. She has already done that.

August grasped the sense of her question, his features warm and resolute. He shook his head. “Not aside from the restaurant two streets from here.” The pizza place they ordered food sometimes during night shifts, not many diners open during the late hours.

Mina knew she should have declined. Even if he didn’t have plans with Andrea, he had a long day too and deserved to rest, his soft heart probably taking more responsibility for her ending up in that ER than he let out. Though he sort of promised he wouldn’t be beating himself up over it – if she won’t over her own sense of fault – she somewhat thought it wouldn’t be a walk in the park. It wouldn’t be for her either. Guilt she burdened herself with was disappearing, but leaving a trial of sadness she didn’t see herself getting over anytime soon. Maybe he was in the same position.

Perhaps they shouldn’t be left alone just yet.

Or she simply didn’t want him to go.

“Stop stalling,” he chided as if he had access to her cloudy musings and could feel her hesitance.

“I was thinking how they always mess up my order,” she scolded back at him, “and if I want go through it again.” Then a rambling in her stomach cut through the otherwise silent space and Austin chuckled wholeheartedly.

She had nothing else to do than roll her eyes in defeat and get up from the table. She knew when she was losing too, though it didn’t feel like losing at all.

“Then stop making it so goddamn complicated,” he started moving toward the door.

“I’m not gonna follow your _double meat, double cheese, one heart attack_ maxim.”

“No, you’re too Mina for that,” he stopped in front of the entrance and held it open for her to pass first.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowned, her arms landing on her hips as she halted next to him, inches between their bodies.

He grinned mysteriously in return and pointed forward with his chin, signaling for her to go. She resisted. He repeated the motion. She made her feet slide further, more stabilizing her position. He made a ‘ _you’re serious?_ ’ face. She lifted up her chin with her eyebrows risen.

Yes, whatever may come their way, they’ll eventually be okay again.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you think? I'm waiting to hear from you. :)


End file.
